


Unearthly

by anotherxlara, Catrowline



Category: AU - Fandom, Doctor Who, Harry Potter - Fandom, Supernatural, hogwarts - Fandom
Genre: Aliens, Crossover, Gen, Hogwarts, Hunters, Multi, Other, Supernatural AU - Freeform, The Doctor - Freeform, The TARDIS - Freeform, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherxlara/pseuds/anotherxlara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catrowline/pseuds/Catrowline
Summary: "Not only have we got a werewolf to hunt, but we've got the Lady of Time Lords to find?" groans Jack. "Awesome."___Our NaNoWriMo project, we're kind of improvising with this extreme crossover! But it's fun! And you can even make suggestions!





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: 

###  About the chocolate that got me into the wrong classroom, with three empty heads staring at my hair.

###  This chapter’s song: [Ninna nanna in blù, by Ennio Morricone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIbhm5a2IAE).

 

I really love it when birds sing, except when it‘s 4am and I‘m desperately trying to sleep. In other words: I woke up way too early today. But then again, it might be my own fault. Instead of trying to fall back asleep, I opened the window and yelled at the trees in front of my house: "I KNOW YOU'RE FUCKING EARLY BUT WOULD YOU PLEASE SHUT UP!"

If any neighbors heard me, they must think I've gone crazy. But, this being said, I think they already do.

Anyway, I wasn't ready for school this morning. I know I should have been, since I had plenty of time and everything, but I had a painting to finish (I started it last week, and I hate staying on the same piece of art for about a week), so I didn't do my homework last-minute like I usually do, and in the end, I didn't even eat breakfast. My brother was in the kitchen, and I'm not talking to him. I'll have to think of another solution, like sneaking food into my room or something. Having to see Will in demonstrative silence would only make us both uncomfortable.

When I climb into the bus, there are always these three girls staring at me, who are sort of creeping me out. Maybe it's just me, but they look like clones, and do everything in synchrony. I heard them play for the school orchestra once: even as they played different instruments, not a single note was misplaced. I swear, if they happen to have one, they definitely share a brain. But, taking into account the way they look at you - well, at me - when I walk into the bus, it doesn't seem like there is much behind their eyes. Maybe there is, but I can't see it. It's the ultimate void: no affection, no humour, no sympathy when I miss the bus, either - they'll turn back at me in one long move, and look at me through a window like three pairs of tunnels. Maybe their brain is like the Cloud, invisibly floating somewhere above their heads. Or more like a private Dropbox document, that you have to know a password to in order to access the content. Anyway, they're creeping me out. Of course they were in the bus today (they always are, and never seem to miss it), but I avoided looking at them. I don't know what the tunnel-eyes can do to you. Maybe they are really superstrong vacuum cleaners, and will suck you into the private Dropbox, where no one will have access to you anymore. I wouldn't know. Empty eyes should never be trusted.

As I was pretty hungry when we arrived at school, I went to the little grocery market on the other side of the street. It's an organic-bio-local-fairtrade-almost vegan place, which means that if you don't pay attention, you'll spend a hundred bucks on five bananas. But I only bought one, and chocolate (a white sort, made with almond milk - it's actually pretty good), and fled before my money got any strange ideas. "Thank you for choosing us.", the door told me while opening itself. Strangely enough, since the door is made of glass, you can see the main building of my school through it, and the "Thank you" phrase is perfectly surrounding that sight, like it was put there on purpose. But I never asked the market owner that question - I don't even know if he works here sometimes - and as I got out, I only answered "You're welcome", in a polite voice like I am supposed to do.

I ate my banana without paying any attention, and I was still hungry afterwards. Unfortunately, there are no lockers in my school, and nothing is really cool or modern about the whole building or system... or teachers. I'd say they're in their 90s, if I had to guess. Not all of them, but almost. The average age is probably 89. And as it happens with old people (and teachers), they hate it when you're late. I was - almost constantly – late, so I hurried through the hallways, that smelled like fresh plastic as they always did on mondays (my theory was that they melted the inside of our school on weekends, in order to get rid of all the student bacteria, and reshaped it a half hour before we got back). But since I was also hungry, I swallowed down some white chocolate while running, and choked. That same moment, I realised that this corridor was a dead end - see, that's why I think they re-shape our school every week. I always get lost on mondays. Every week I get a little better at finding my classrooms, and then monday comes, and I have to start all over again. But, priorities first. I coughed out some chocolate, almost died from suffocation, and then checked the back of the package for allergens. In fact, I was allergic to nuts, and you never know with these organic vegan things, they put all kinds of stupid healthy ingredients in products that are in no way supposed to be healthy (white chocolate, for instance). May contain traces of... Okay, that didn't count. I wasn't allergic to traces (I hoped). But, something else caught my attention: on the backside of this package, there was a map. It looked pretty much like a street map, but since I was currently lost in my school, I thought it might help me to find the way to my classroom, too. A map is a map, right? Well, it seemed to make sense at the time. I must be on that street on the right, I thought, which was wrong, because I had to get to the main road in the middle... Soon, I followed the chocolate map to a green door with a white frame, numbered 1-04 (the doors in my school are colour-coded, but I'll get to that later), and knocked. 

It opened. Or rather, someone opened it. He was approximately 94 years old.

"How can we help you?", he asked, and I tried to look around him, to see if there was a second old person in the class. There must be a reason why he was using plural.

"I think you can't", I said, apologetically. "But I am in your class."

"A new student? In april?", he asked. I frowned.

"She isn't new.", a first voice in the second row said.

"She also isn't in our class.", a second voice in the third row answered.

"If one thing's sure, she definitely can't be helped.", a third one said, and the girl belonging to that voice was sitting just a few steps away from me, in the first row. I wasn't sure about what she meant. 

I turned towards the teacher. "Excuse me, can we talk later? I don't want to keep everyone from learning."

"Please, take a seat.", he said. He sounded like my doctor when he said it. Except that my doctor was around my age, closer to 15 than 94.

His phrasing was actually misleading: taking  _ a _ seat implied that there were several options, but there weren't. I sat down at the only available chair in the middle of the classroom, and the person next to me even made some place, switching their own chair a little further away from me. "Thank you", I said, and smiled, but their look told me there was something else going on. What was it?

I turned around. With just one look, I noticed them immediately. The three voices - the triple void - how could I have missed it before? Three pairs of tunnels were trying to suck me in from different parts of the classroom. They must have been telling the truth when they were talking to the teacher, except I didn’t realise it was them: I had never been in their class before. I think they were actually younger than me, just about thirteen or something. Looking around the class, I wished I had somewhere to hide. I could feel them, and I could feel how their looks affected my body, pulling on me from different directions. In final desperation, I opened the bun that usually kept the world safe from the floods of fluffy hair surrounding my head like the Niagara falls (not that I had ever been there), and hid behind those light brown curly curtains, staring at my feet. I instantly felt calmer, as if my hair was also keeping the background noise out of my head, and the too-bright sunlight out of my eyes. But what was I supposed to do until I got out of here? How long did I have to wait until this class was over, and how would I find my way back to my own class, with the people I knew? Not that I knew them well, but they didn't feel as unsafe as these surroundings here, and some of them I could even talk to, like a real conversation.

I had this conversation about the solar system the other day, with... I couldn't remember their name. But they were nice. I wasn't too sure about their gender, since you usually couldn't infer that from haircuts, or clothes, or names for that matter, but I'd forgotten to ask. 

Hiding under my hair while listening to a 94-year old talking about how some people didn't want to be free, I started to draw a part of the solar system how I imagined it. It could have been the view out of my window, if only my brain would have had a window that opened on space. Not empty space like the private access Dropbox, but  _ my  _ space, the one where I felt I belonged to, and where it would have been easy for me to talk to lots of friends. 

I didn't know many people here at my school, but maybe friends just didn't come with people who yelled at birds and followed chocolate maps. Anyway, I would be hiding under my hair until someone gave me a reason not to. Eating like this would be a challenge, sure, but right now, I seriously couldn’t care less. In other words, I intended to stay in this state for quite a long time. It would not be my problem.


	2. Time Ladies and Werewolves - how bad is it gonna get now?

Song for the chapter: Highway to hell by ACDC.

I don't know who she is, I don't know where she's from and I certainly don't know what she's doing in this class; she doesn't take this class usually.  
As if I needed another uncertainty in my life. I'm not ready for another mystery, and this girl represents exactly what I call a fucking mystery.  
I'm too busy hunting, I don't want whatever she is interfering.  
Wait, whatever she is?  
How could she be anything else than human?  
She sits next to me, and I scoot over to make some room for her, and she thanks me. That's nice. Not many people thank anyone else anymore.  
No one except Clint. Damn, I miss that asshole.  
He's still in England, Chuck only knows why. Well, not just Chuck. Clint says it's to keep an eye on professor Lupin, him being a werewolf and all, but I know the truth. He's hoping to try and get with Caitlin and I can't blame him, she's freaking hot.

I turn my attention back to the teacher, who acts all sweet and attentive, but he's actually an evil werewolf. Not like Lupin, who actually is trying to, you know, not feast on people, but this guy, 'Mister Johnson' (I mean what kind of a fake name is that?), he bites and turns kids all over campus.  
Mom (I mean Mary) talked McGonagall into letting me come back to the United States, because I'm the only one who can enter as a student. Jack could, and he did, but it's better if I'm also on the team. Letting Jack loose on this guy? Letting Jack alone on campus? Not a good idea. He'd either binge-watch some TV show all day or go on a vengeful attack of this guy, which wouldn't be very inconspicuous, which is what we're trying to teach him, but he still doesn't get it. Which is why we're always in the same classes.  
He sits a few rows above me, taking all the notes he can from 'Mister Johnson', who, I've got to say, is not a bad teacher, while I study everything he's doing.

He's leaning onto his right leg, never on his left, which makes me think he might be hurt there. Strange. I wonder what the reason is behind that.

Suddenly, the TARDIS key that Dad gave me starts warming up against my cool skin. I yelp in surprise, causing people to turn to me. Inconspicuous much?  
I raise my hand. "Sir," I call out, "I'm not feeling well-"  
Jack stands up. "I'll take her to the infirmary," he says before the werewolf can answer. The latter waves a dismissive hand, not unlike Binnsbefore Cait's Dad, Sirius Black, took over History of Magic. I nod to Jack, who slides his arm around my waist, indicating that I should act faint. I lean into him, and he almost carries me out of the room, letting me stand up as the door shuts behind us.

"What's wrong, Alex?" he whispers, his eyes wide with worry. I shake my head.  
"Dad's TARDIS key: it's warming up."  
"Are you talking about the key he gave you in case you needed his help?" he asks;  
"Yeah, either he needs help or something is happening here and the key is warm because it senses the TARDIS." I sense a presence behind me, and I swivel, my right hand automatically jumping to the inside of my jeans jacket, where the knife Dean gave me before I left for Hogwarts sits.  
"Most likely the latter," says the man who nearly startled me. I take a step back.  
"Dad?" I squeal: I haven't seen him in seven months. I jump into his arms, holding on tight. "What are you doing here?"  
Dad sighs. "I wish it was a nice visit, but I felt another Time Lord here."  
I stare at him. "Ever thought that could be me?"  
Dad laughs a shaky laugh. "You're a half Time Lord. This one... This one, if I recognize her aura correctly, is the Lady of Time Lords. She was taken down, although she was the best ruler we'd ever had, and had her memories replaced."  
"That's a thing?" exclaims Jack. Dad nods grimly.  
"Yes. But her memories weren't just removed and replaced once, but twice. That does things to one's brain, I'll tell you."  
"and the Lady is in one of our classes, you think?" I ask, looking at Jack. Dad nods again.  
"I can feel her - or his, she might've regenerated in a boy's body - aura somewhere around both of you."  
"Not only have we got a werewolf to hunt, but we've got the Lady of Time Lords to find?" groans Jack. "Awesome."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:  
Song for the chapter: [The Meeting Place, The Last Shadow Puppets](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JKKUxmVzeM).

When the person next to me got sick and went out of the classroom - with a boy, don't ask me why, or maybe he was an undercover nurse - I got a little calmer. Not that I have anything against people, my reaction to them is definitely not as bad as my allergy to nuts for example, but saying that they make me very uncomfortable is the understatement of the century. With one less person in my direct surroundings - the distance to the next pupils was about 160cms, I quickly estimated through my hairy curtain - my head felt a little more clear. It was like I couldn't avoid paying attention to people, to what they did and how they acted, as if I should have been taking notes, when all I really wanted was to ignore them altogether. Let me tell you, this sort of internal conflict gives you one hell of a headache. And I didn't get where it came from: I think everyone my age usually skipped school when they felt annoyed with their friends, the system, authority, the subjects, a particular teacher, maybe the director, education in general or even their parents, even when those had nothing to do with skipping school (only afterwards would they be in some sort of alliance with the teachers, once they'd heard of the misbehaviour of their children). In any case, I wished I could get out of here soon, but skipping didn't feel right.   
I asked myself what these people got from going to class anyway. Didn't they already know everything the 94-year old guy said? I certainly did, and I officially wasn't even a good student. Though maybe, between knowing things and knowing what to write down on a piece of paper, what to say in class and, heavens, in which classroom to go, there was still plenty of room for me to lose points. That was probably what I did all the time. My papers got graded "off topic" most of the time, and then I got some points, for writing more than anyone else in my class, but was way below average. But well. Whatever school was about, I didn't mind not being average.  
When the ring bell, I waited for everyone else to go outside before I even got up. Well, everyone else except for the 94 year old: he didn't count, I guess. I think those old people liked to spend their last days in the building where they spent their most terrible years as a young person, it must bring them some kind of peace to reverse the roles, to be the ones who made this place so bad.  
"Wait, young lady.", he called all of a sudden, just when I was about leaving this room. I turned back, scowling through my hair. What did he want?  
"Huh?", I said.  
"You intended to explain later - now is later. Are you new to my class? Who sent you here?"  
"That was a stupid phrase.", I answered. "Now is always later. I don't intend to explain anymore."  
And I was about to walk out the door, but he was really fast, for a 94 year old anyway, and closed it right in front of me.  
"Well, I'm not giving you a choice.", he growled.  
I frowned. "And I don't like your voice."  
He growled again, looking kind of threatening. But it took more than a weird old person to scare me for real, it took a whole class listening to one, for instance, or -   
I stumbled a few steps back from the door, looking behind the teacher in sheer horror.  
The three voids were staring directly at me. Or maybe at him - or us. Anyway, they were right there.  
"We thought we'd help you find your way back to your class.", one of them spoke, and smiled.  
I looked at the teacher in desperation. His mouth still had something in common with an angry dog's, but with the tunnels standing right in front of me, my choice was obvious  
"Help", I whispered in the 94 year old dog's direction, but instead, he started cleaning his glasses, looking preoccupied.  
"Maybe you should go with them.", he said, distractedly. "I don't want you to get in trouble."  
"I won't, if you help me.", I said, paralysed now.  
"We're here to help.", one of the empty voices said.  
"Please, come with us.", another added.  
"I'd rather stay here, thank you."  
"Come with us, and you will have cake.", the first one said, and even though it shouldn't have, her argument made something inside me change it's mind. I suddenly didn't feel quite as bad about her - the first one of the three speakers - anymore.  
"Can I just go with one of you?", I asked. "I'm scared of crowds."  
I could see them exchange words through their tunnel-eyes, but there was no chance for me to catch any of them through my hair, especially if I didn't want to get sucked into them too. Then there would be four of these girls, and I would be cake.  
Wait, what?  
"I'm staying with you.", the first girl said. "I'll see you guys at lunch, right?", she asked the others, before they left "Our usual place". Some giggle-ish sounds came from the hallway, sounding like the worst of all evils anyone could imagine, like highschool drama, and fights. "Now, let's get away from here."  
For a second or so, I thought she'd said "let's get away from him", but that would have made absolutely no sense, so I corrected it in my head. Sometimes I understood things all wrong, I was kind of getting used to it by now. The other day, I thought someone had asked me where they could find a broom, and only then did I get that they were looking for a bathroom. It was like, I heard one word first, and since it didn't feel right to my brain, there was some sort of correction-system turning on up there, but I could feel it doing its work, and it was... Seriously, just puzzling, and sort of scary.  
"So, what class do you usually have now?", the girl asked, probably trying to initiate a conversation, too. I tried to find the information inside my head, but it was so cloudy in there. Or smokey. It certainly felt like something had burned.  
"I don't know.", I sighed. "Can't we go ask someone else?"  
She laughed. "First of all, we could ask your schedule. Do you have it with you?"  
Right. Where was that again? "I should print it on my arm or something.", I complained, and frowned. "Wait, I think I said that before. Let me just check something."  
I took of my coat, which was actually a long task. Since this coat was too large for me in all dimensions (too long, too wide, with pockets too deep - I always lost something in there), I usually tried to hold it together with something close to strings, mostly shoelaces and headbands, but sometimes duct tape when I was in a hurry and couldn't find anything else. I'd been in a hurry this morning. "Do you have scissors?", I asked.  
"Uh, no.", she answered. "But maybe you could try with this?" She was handing me a knife. Like, a big one, a kitchen knife that definitely wouldn't - and shouldn't - be sold to anyone under eighteen years. Pointing it towards me like this, she did look kind of threatening. But as long as I avoided her tunnel gaze, everything should be alright. I raised an eyebrow. "How come you're carrying this with you?"  
"It's for the cake.", she answered. "Do you want me to do this?"  
"I think I'll manage.", I said, and took the knife by the blade. Now she was the one to raise an eyebrow, but didn't comment. She spent five minutes watching me cut the duct tape from my coat, and I actually struggled quite a bit, but when I was done and took it all off, I also found what I was looking for. “I have it right here!”.  
“What?”  
“My class schedule!”  
“Okay. So, where do you need to go?”  
I frowned. “I just don’t get how you’re supposed to read it. What do the numbers mean? And the letters?”  
“They tell you to what doors you need to go to.”  
"Do they tell me the colour, too?"  
"Who cares about the colour?"  
"Me! Who doesn't! Colours are important!"  
I thought I heard her sigh. "Alright", she said. "Just say what number your schedule reads"  
"107?"  
"Is this a question?"  
"Kind of. There's a letter with it."  
She definitely sighed now. "Well, it goes with the number. What is it then?"  
"T."  
"Let's find your room then. I have my own class I need to attend soon."  
I followed her around the building. It was kind of a labyrinth, a smelly plastic one, with lots of doorframes to walk into. The third time I almost bumped my head into one, she pulled me away by my sleeve. Amazingly fast reactions!, I thought. Wow!  
"Couldn't you just take all this hair out of your face?", she asked, ruining my good impression of her instantly.  
"No! I need it like this."  
"Why?"  
"School is much less scary like this."  
"Scary? Why would school be scary anyway?", she asked.  
Because of people like you? "I just don't like it much."  
"What about your friends?"  
What friends?  
I didn't answer, but I think she heard my thought, because she didn't know how to continue the conversation either.  
While climbing up a yellow staircase, she finally broke the silence again.  
"What's your name, anyway? I never got to ask."  
"Lola.", I said. "What's yours?"  
"Phyllis. And you should still take your hair out of your face. At least some of it, so you can see the doors and stop hurting yourself."  
In that same second, I almost hurt myself again.  
"Okay, let me just..." She took a strang of hair right out of my sight, reached onto her own head to take out a hairclip and fixed the hair with it. "Here. A tiny opening won't hurt, right?"  
I was too busy avoiding her eyes to answer, until she turned away again.  
We walked up the stairs without any further accidents.


End file.
